It is the Cycle's End* in the Sign Of The Tiger; when the Eye that sees all opens upon itself - allowing any who dare, a glimpse of the Open Way - the Way Of The Creator. A glimpse as real as the motionless form seated at the center of the mandala that is the secret threshold to such Visions.Visions as real as the crater within which waits She who has uttered the Hidden Names. She who has once again eaten of the forbidden flower.

As with all Daughters Of The Sun, adulthood and obesiance to the Dark God and his shrouded Priests edicts were to have been the results of her first Vision Quest, but even as the inner blossoms had opened, the dardje had known that the Great Spirit alone, would share in the knowledge and experience to follow.

Ecstasy and torture had followed her as her world dissolved into a Time and Space so remote as to be irrecognizable, where her confusion and bewilderment quickly turned to disbelief and horror as she witnessed the utter annihilation of her planet and the murder of her People by the very God to whose temple and service she must eventually return.

The dardje alone, felt the virgin Earth cradle her bare feet as she watched the original inhabitants move on in their huge glowing ships, and it was She who remained behind as the clumsy remnants of her race stumbled into their new world like the infants they truly were - leaving her to shiver silently on the peaks of ice-shrouded mountains and in the depths of sea-destined caves - while they they reveled within the walls of Cities raised to protect them from the Fear they could not name.

She alone, had roamed the skyless forest and scouted the feral plain, happily exiled from the growing hatred with which the Cities fed their inhabitants until they screamed at the very thought of Famine. There was no famine - but in it's shadow, the dardje recognized the Dark God; intent once again on feeding - only this time on Earth and Her Children.

Nothing had struck at her with as much cosmic dread however, as the realization that the source of all the agony and despair She had witnessed, awaited her return to what was no longer normal, sane consciousness in the very land of her birth. Waiting. Either to assure her complete and utter cooperation, or to guarantee her final silence, and the continued success of the plots and strategies she now knew to be but the idiot spawn of a mind to whom Human Life is but an impediment, an obstacle between itself and the spiritual death it believes the ultimate goal and final ecstasy.

Doubt and Paranoia seemed to have stifled the very air itself upon her return, and Fear was in every breath and at the throat of every word. Fear that was the process and product of an Empire strangling on the frustration of it's citizens. Fear that hunted down those whose Imagination and Intuition had surpassed it's own; whose warnings and insight went unheeded.

Few indeed, noticed any change in the dardje, and all eyes were far from the Temple when, long after the pious had deposited their days tribute of guilt and remorse, She returned to the depths of the Dark God's domain for the last time. No eyes followed her progress down the endless steps of decaying stone quarried, dressed, and transported, by the very power she would soon claim as her own. Even her blasphemous arrival at the subterrene vault was greeted only by the funereal blackness that dwelled within. Blackness that soon turned to light however, as the dardje immersed herself ever deeper in the timeless sorceries that meant escape from the Dark God and his doomed empire. Escape that would lead to the freedom of the known, and sorceries that would trigger Destiny itself.

Now, opening her eyes from the center of the Sleepless Dream, the dardje conrtinues the virgin magic she knows will ultimately bring an end to the misuse and disgrace from which She herself has narrowly escaped. Here - far from those who would retain their assumed authority over the ignorant and the innocent - She prepares to perfect her innocence and transcend her ignorance of the forgotten Inner Path with it's ancient harmonies that lead to the Song Without End; the Thousand Waters Voice.

Hers is the plea, spanning the ages whose answer will signal the final battle between her Hopes and the lurking fear she feels even now, knowing that as surely as the Song begins, Panic and Terror are descending upon her - seeking to silence her and her truth here at the very entrance to The Lands Beyond.

The Adversary will be too late however, and the Truth will triumph for in speaking it, the dardje speaks the final words of the Incantation that marks not only her highest sorcery and whitest magic, but also the sealing of the Fate she alone has chosen for herself. Words that witness the blossoming brilliance unfolding from the center of the mandala as the forbidden flower blooms into full glory. A Word that vibrates with the sound from the shimmering figure whose surprised eyes already hold the reply to her unasked query.